


Dance by the Light of the Moon

by Writcraft



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Epistolary, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-27
Updated: 2012-07-27
Packaged: 2017-11-10 21:15:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/470767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writcraft/pseuds/Writcraft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is miserable and living like a recluse at Grimmauld Place and Draco retired from Wizarding society after his divorce. One day a misdirected owl from Scorpius Malfoy finds its way into Harry's hands. Harry hasn't lost his desire to save people but Draco has a secret and it's one he doesn't want to share.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance by the Light of the Moon

**Saturday 5 May**

It was the sort of day where everything smelt fresh with rain and the trees whispered to one another in the cool breeze. Inside the house the darkness and shadows of Grimmauld Place slithered over the walls and the paintings screamed and Harry sat, alone in his room, listening to the pitter-patter of rain on the window pane. 

Harry turned uncomfortably, watching the rain form patterns on the window and wondered how the days had merged into months and then years. He dragged himself out of bed and took a shower, letting the warm water slide over his body. With a frown in the mirror he patted his hair down over his scar and then tugged on some jeans, before wrapping a towel around his shoulders as he padded downstairs with a slight shiver at the cold.

He put on the kettle and waited for the whistle of the steam to drag him out of his reverie, sifting through the pile of owls sitting out on the side, some yellowing in the light from the sun and covered in the thin layer of dust which settled around the paintings and the furniture in the house. 

**Sunday 1 April**

_Harry_

_We haven’t seen you in such a long time. Are you going to come round for supper soon?_

_It isn’t good for you to spend so much time alone in that house._

_We miss you._

_Hermione and Ron_

_P.S. The kids say hello_

**Saturday 14 April**

_Harry_

_It’s been a long time since we heard from you. Why don’t you come and visit us one of these evenings? I would like to see you and hear your news._

_If you are very lucky we may be able to persuade Severus to share some of his Firewhiskey._

_Yours,_

_Remus_

**Friday 4 May**

_Harry_

_This is getting ridiculous._

_I know what you’re doing. Stop hiding and come and see your friends._

_You can ignore this if you like. I’m coming round tomorrow and I have been learning some new hexes - I’m hoping they might drag you out of bed if nothing else will._

_Best,_

_Ginny_

_P.S. You and I are throwing some of the paintings out. They make the place even more morbid, if such a thing is possible._

_P.P.S. Don’t tell Hermione I suggested this but you might want to think about a house elf. There must have been three inches of dust last time I visited – I can only assume it is now worse._

Ginny.

Harry looked at the date of the owl and groaned, flicking his wand to cast some perfunctory cleaning charms, trying to make the place look like he hadn’t been sitting indoors and wallowing for the past few months.

He continued sifting through the owls until he came to some parchment which looked particularly expensive, the roll of thick paper wrapped in a black satin ribbon bearing the Malfoy crest. He felt his eyes widen in surprise and slowly began to open the owl. Harry wondered why in the name of Merlin he would have been sent anything from the Manor and looked curiously at the writing on the parchment, noticing the letter had been misdirected. With another frown he saw the letter was intended for the Quibbler which also made little sense as Malfoy had never hidden his disdain for the paper during his time at Hogwarts. 

Draco Malfoy.

Harry had heard stories about Malfoy, of course. The Prophet had been full of them after his divorce, each more sensational than the last. His wife had avoided the press but when pushed to speak had simply said that Draco was a good father. It did not go unnoticed that she never made any comment as to his abilities as a husband. 

When the dust had settled on the scandal of the Malfoy divorce, an anonymous wizard had come forward for an undisclosed sum of money, alleging that Malfoy was gay and his marriage had been nothing but a sham to produce a Malfoy heir. The press speculated that Astoria herself was complicit, noting that the marriage had given her access to the Malfoy fortune. Eventually Malfoy had released a statement, confirming his preference for wizards and asserting his wife was a good mother and an excellent woman, who had no knowledge of his own inclinations when they married. Draco announced his intention to withdraw from society and asked that the press leave his family in peace to avoid further disruption to his son.

The press soon found other families to satisfy the need for society gossip, but amongst the next generation of witches and wizards, the stories about the current heir of Malfoy Manor continued to rumble on. Harry knew from Ron and Hermione’s brood that the Manor and Draco himself had become something of a legend for wizarding children. They believed that the Manor was haunted by the ghost of Lucius, or some even said by the ghost of Voldemort. The children claimed that screams of the ghosts of the people tortured and killed at the Manor during the war could be heard from the Manor at night. Malfoy himself held a gruesome fascination for the children, who painted him as a shrivelled character, consumed by dark magic as he wasted away surrounded by ghosts of the past. 

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes. He didn’t believe it for a second. He felt quite sure that if Malfoy had lost his marbles he would still remember where his hair gel was and the number for his personal tailor. Not to mention that he seemed to have raised a perfectly pleasant if somewhat quiet little boy that had started Hogwarts last year, sorted into Ravenclaw and by all accounts was well-mannered and studious – an excellent student who excelled at flying much like his father once had.

Harry felt he should curl the parchment back up and send it to the rightful recipient but his curiosity got the better of him. He opened the owl fully, feeling as if he might be intruding where he shouldn’t and then sat down with his mug of steaming tea to read the owl. 

_Dear Sirs_

_Mother doesn’t live with father anymore and she says that’s because father prefers wizards to witches. I also think it’s because father gets sick sometimes and she never wanted to help him._

_Please help my father find a nice wizard he can marry who can look after him when he gets sick and who will stop him from being so lonely._

_Father doesn’t have anyone apart from me and his books. He doesn’t like our house elves much so they don’t really count. The paintings always yell at him for being a blood traitor because he has posters of a Muggle film star in his bedroom. He tells them something I’m not allowed to repeat in polite company._

_If it helps you to decide who to send, Mother said he always had a taste for brunettes._

_Yours faithfully,_

_Scorpius H. Malfoy (aged twelve and two thirds)_

_P.S. I know the Prophet says Mr. Potter likes wizards. Please don’t send him. My father says he’s a total prat._

_P.P.S. But don’t tell him I said that if you ever see him, father said it’s rude to be disrespectful of war heroes even if they don’t know how to dress themselves._

_P.P.P.S. If you do see him, could you ask for his autograph? I should be able to sell it for sugar quills._

Harry read the owl a couple of times, unable to stop a grin spreading across his face at the way Harry himself had his own rather unflattering mention. With a short laugh he signed a piece of parchment and sent his owl off to Scorpius at Hogwarts, hoping to get him some sugar quills. 

Harry was still drumming his fingers on the table and staring at the parchment when a knock at the door startled him out of his thoughts. He stood quickly and moved to the door with the parchment still crumpled in one hand. Harry smiled as he opened the door to Ginny, standing back to let her come into the house. 

“Thanks for your owl. Very uplifting.”

“You’re welcome.” Ginny laughed and moved to the kitchen to pour herself a cup of tea. “Everyone has been worried about you. I hope you realise you can’t spend weeks wallowing in the dust – one of us will come and pull you out of it eventually.”

“I know.” Harry moved behind Ginny and squeezed her shoulder. “I’m just a bit sick of it all – the press, the photographers everywhere. I would rather stay at home than read another negative story about myself. I hoped if I stayed away long enough the press would just forget about me. It worked for Malfoy.”

“I’m not sure…” Ginny shook her head and moved away to the table and sitting down, waiting for Harry. “You can’t imagine he’s happy living as he does?”

“Apparently not…” Harry paused, debating with himself and then passed the note from Scorpius to her. “This was in a pile of owls. I think it was meant for the Quibbler but it appears Malfoy’s owl has a problem with direction. What do you think?”

Ginny read the note and then looked up at Harry with a sigh and a small smile and shook her head.

“You’re intrigued?”

“Yes.”

“I suppose you want to save him?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps.”

“It’s going to take him a while to trust you, I suppose you know that?”

Harry nodded and frowned at the note and then looked back up at Ginny.

“You know I have to try, though?”

“Yes. I know you, Harry.”

“Better than I know myself, sometimes.”

“Well enough not to marry you, at least.” Ginny smiled at that although the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes and she reached out to Harry and squeezed his hand, and he squeezed her hand back with a nod of agreement as he raked his free hand through his hair and watched her closely.

“Yes. I am sorry for that – I never should have asked. I was a right prat, totally blind.”

“You had been fighting a war since you were eleven years old. I hardly think it’s your fault it took you a while to figure out where your preferences lie.” Ginny shrugged and sipped her tea, not looking at Harry.

“Still, I hurt you. For that I will always be sorry.”

“Honestly, Harry – I’m perfectly happy now. There really is no need to beat yourself around the head with it, what’s done is done. So what are you planning to do about this note?”

“I don’t know.” Harry frowned at it and looked up at Ginny. “Do you think I should just turn up on his doorstep? He’s going to think it’s a bit strange.”

“I don’t know, perhaps you could say you have been looking up old acquaintances?”

“Maybe…” Harry frowned into his tea, trying to think of an excuse for going to the Manor and drew a blank. “I suppose I could say I’m hosting a party?”

“Here?” Ginny looked around Grimmauld Place and wrinkled her nose. “You might want to wait until Godric’s Hollow is finished – plus you could always send an owl. A personal invitation might be a bit much.”

“I suppose I could ask him for help.”

“Perhaps.” Ginny stirred the sugar into her own tea and took a careful sip as she continued, without looking at Harry. “Are you actually interested in him like that? Malfoy, I mean. He always was rather handsome.”

Harry spluttered some of his tea out onto the table as he felt his face heat a little as Ginny flicked her gaze up to him.

“Of course not! It’s… _Malfoy_ …he’s a total git.”

“Of course, silly of me.” Ginny laughed lightly and then sipped her tea again, a small smile tugging at her lips which made Harry’s cheeks feel even hotter.

“Ginny…”

“Yes, Harry?” She smiled at Harry the picture of innocence and he groaned, dropping his head into his hands.

“I’m totally screwed, aren’t I?”

“Oh I’d say so…if you’re very lucky.”

Harry looked up to see Ginny grinning wickedly at him and aimed a light stinging hex at her. 

“Prat.”

With a laugh, Ginny flicked her wand and hexed Harry right back and the laughter continued as the letter from Scorpius sat on the table, forgotten for the moment.

**Sunday 6 May**

_Malfoy_

_I’m hosting a party and Merlin knows why, but I would like you to be there._

_I have invited people from school (not just Gryffindors) and Severus has promised to attend if I buy some expensive Firewhiskey._

_RSVP._

_Harry (Potter)_

_P.S. I don’t suppose you know anything about hosting parties? I’m trying to find a decent catering service. I don’t think I can serve beans on toast._

**Wednesday 9 May**

_Potter_

_Has it escaped your notice I don’t attend parties anymore? What on earth makes you think I would alter that for whatever sorry excuse for an evening’s entertainment you are planning?_

_D.A. Malfoy_

_P.S. Of course I know about hosting parties and if your cooking is anything like your ability to brew potions, I suggest you steer clear of the kitchen. Get a house elf._

**Sunday 13 May**

_Malfoy_

_It may surprise you to learn I don’t spend my free time following your every movement._

_Why have you stopped attending parties? Did they discontinue your hair gel?_

_Harry_

_P.S. I can’t get a house elf – Hermione would have my guts for garters._

_P.P.S. What’s your view on cheese and pineapple on cocktail sticks and mini sausage rolls?_

**Monday 14 May**

_Potter_

_Are you insane? You can’t serve that sort of food at a party. You need proper canapés, preferably with some caviar._

_If you think your woeful attempts are enticing me to make an appearance you are sadly mistaken._

_My hair is perfect. Unlike yours, which I expect looks like a family of kneazles has been nesting in it._

_D. A. Malfoy_

_P.S. Is Severus really coming to this party? I suggest you get more than one bottle of Firewhiskey. He tends not to play nicely with others, particularly if cheese and pineapple on sticks are involved._

**Wednesday 16 May**

_Malfoy_

Thanks for the tip regarding Severus. I am relying on Remus to make sure he doesn’t start hexing people at random intervals. 

I was sorry to hear about your divorce – it sounded like it was a rough time for you. 

At least you have the happy memories of lifting the House Cup in your final year at Hogwarts after catching the snitch during the last Quidditch game of the term to keep you happy during the long evenings.

Oh, wait…that was me.

If you come to the party I promise to save you a dance.

Harry

P.S. Can I borrow one of your house elves?

**Friday 17 May**

_Potter_

_You are a fucking prat._

_Stop sending me owls. I am very busy and frankly your sense of humour stinks. Now I remember why I wasted my time making badges to that effect._

_D. A. Malfoy_

_P.S. No, you absolutely cannot._

_P.P.S. What makes you think I would want to dance with you? I saw you at Triwizard. You have all the grace of a drunken crup. I rather like my toes._

**Monday 21 May**

_Malfoy?_

_I bet you missed me._

_I have been thinking about this party. If you’re going to be my date you should probably have more of a say in the detail. Why don’t I come round and we can plan together?_

_To be honest, I could use the help._

_Harry_

_P.S. I took dance lessons after school with Ginny. I can do a pretty mean Cha-Cha-Cha._

**Wednesday 23 May**

_Potter!_

What in the name of Merlin makes you think I would agree to be your date? 

If you took dance lessons with the Weaslette I can only imagine you learned the man’s steps. If you think for one moment I am going to play Juliet to your pathetic Romeo, you have another think coming.

Don’t you dare come to see me – I mean it, Potter. I will throw you out on your ear. I know plenty of horrible hexes and I’m not afraid to use them.

D. A. Malfoy (former Death Eater, in case you had forgotten)

P.S. Of course I didn’t miss you. It has been a real pleasure not having to think about your disaster of a soiree for the last couple of days.

**Friday 25 May**

_Malfoy_

I have just finished the invitations for the party – proper formal ones.

I am getting the rest printed up now. I can’t wait to show you.

I’m not worried about the hexes – I’m an old hand at Expelliarmus. Alternatively my Patronus could just charge at you. What’s your Patronus? I bet it’s hilarious.

Harry

P.S. I still think you missed me.

**Saturday 26 May**

Harry shivered as he stood outside the gates to the Manor and remembered the last time he was there. He noticed the gardens looked wild and unkempt and half expected a clap of thunder and a flash of lightening centred over the black turrets which stretched into the sky. He took the large brass door knocker and waited for someone to answer, shuffling a little and wondering what the hell he was doing here.

“Mister Potter!” 

Harry looked down at the little elf that had answered the door, and found himself wrapped in a fierce hug which nearly knocked the life out of him. He petted the elf rather awkwardly and noticed it was wearing a colourful bobble hat and one huge woollen sock.

“Is Malfoy – Draco – around?”

“He doesn’t take visitors, Mister Potter. Not since Mrs. Malfoy left and his father…” The house elf trailed off with a small squeak and started to sob, wringing his hands and pulling at his ears. Startled, Harry stilled the little elf’s hands and petted him again.

“It’s alright, don’t get upset – we’ve been corresponding. I’ll tell him I forced my way in.” With a smile at the elf who let out another squawk, Harry moved into the house and shivered again at the paintings which loomed down on him, a number of them deciding to hiss loudly at him as the chatter in the hall increased.

The elf gestured down the corridor to a room with a closed door and then scurried into another room, presumably to iron its ears for betraying its master. Harry rolled his eyes and cursed but decided to leave the house elf be for the moment, determined to find Malfoy.

As he reached the door, he took a deep breath and pushed it open, concerned about what he might find inside. A fire crackled and the room was homely and warm, the walls lined with books and the tables covered with papers and half open books, bound in leather, the titles of some written in ancient runes. He picked up one of the books and ran his thumb down the spine.

“Me and the Moon…”

“What the hell do you want, Potter?”

With a startled yelp, Harry spun to see Malfoy sitting at a huge mahogany desk glasses perched on his head, with his arms folded as he glared at Harry. Despite the fact he looked as if he had just being chewing a wasp, Harry couldn’t help notice that Draco Malfoy was bloody gorgeous. He let his eyes rake over Draco’s features, his face angular but less pointed and hard than it had been during Hogwarts. His hair hadn’t much changed, but it fell a little over his forehead as he glared at Harry. He wore a grey jumper which looked expensive – cashmere – Harry thought, with a white shirt with light blue stripes underneath the jumper.

“I have something for you – I wanted to give it to you in person.” 

Harry heard the way his voice cracked a little in the room and closed his mouth shut with a snap, as he realised he had definitely been staring. He couldn’t seem to stop his eyes trailing over Malfoy’s body and the thought of making him feel less lonely was definitely causing Harry’s traitorous body to react, he just hoped his reactions weren’t visible.

“What on earth could you have to give to me?” Malfoy narrowed his eyes at Harry with more than a little suspicion.

“The formal invitation to the party.” Harry passed it to him, and Malfoy took the invitation, turning it over in his hands before looking up at Harry.

“This invitation is a total disaster, Potter – you haven’t mentioned carriages and there is nothing about any sort of dress code.”

“It’s pretty informal people can dress as they please.”

Harry ignored Malfoy’s snort at that and felt his cheeks heat a little as Malfoy looked him over a little disdainfully.

“I see.”

“You could help me?”

“Why on earth would I want to do that?”

“Because I clearly need it?” Harry grinned at Malfoy in a manner which he hoped was sufficiently convincing.

Malfoy stared at Harry for a long moment and then leaned back, still looking at him suspiciously.

“As I mentioned once or twice in my owls, I have retired from society, Potter.” Malfoy turned the invitation over again and then placed it carefully on his desk. 

“So you don’t want to help? I thought it could be fun.”

Harry watched Malfoy, noticing the light pink colour suffusing his cheeks and bit his cheek to hold back a grin and a crow of delight.

“I’m sure you did. Well if you’re here I imagine you will want a drink? I have a bottle of red or I can ask the house elves to make tea, I suppose.”

“No. Wine is fine, thanks.”

Harry sat down on the sofa and tried not to breathe in the scent of expensive cologne when Malfoy sat down, his proximity making Harry shiver a little. He snorted softly to himself. Wasting away indeed, Malfoy looked fine – better than fine – he looked bloody brilliant.

“Your house elf has clothes.”

“Well observed, Potter.” Malfoy frowned into his wine and then shrugged. “I told them they could leave – gave them all socks. They don’t want to, apparently although Merlin knows why. They take holiday a couple of times a year and otherwise behave exactly as they did. I think they like the thought of being free more than actually being free. They like to work and I am not my father – I am not cruel to them.”

“I didn’t imagine you were.” Harry thought of seeing Lucius with Dobby and winced a little.

“Why are you really here, Potter?” 

Harry turned to see Malfoy was eyeing him with the same suspicious sort of look he had been giving him when Harry first barged in and he tried to think how to explain himself, not quite ready to reveal the letter from Scorpius just yet until he had managed to figure out exactly what was going on with Malfoy.

“After all of the owls I suppose I wanted to see you for myself, I thought maybe you would appreciate the company.” Harry smiled and nudged Mafloy softly. “And I really am crap at all this party planning stuff.”

“A few owls hardly makes us friends – I fail to understand why you would care and you don’t exactly seem the sort to be here out of curiosity.” Malfoy took a sip of his wine and sat back to contemplate Harry.

“Well perhaps I could use the company.” Harry shrugged and frowned at his hands, setting his wine to one side. “Ron and Hermione are married, they have moved on. I’m friends with Ginny but things are a bit awkward there since I asked her to marry me and she pointed out I was…well…perhaps not all that interested in women.” Harry grimaced and looked at Malfoy who inclined his head as if to indicate he had read the press surrounding Harry’s break up. “We have that, at least, in common, I suppose – not finding women attractive, I mean. I enjoyed writing those owls and to be honest I haven’t been out much myself. It was an excuse to do something other than sit at home.”

“I suppose we do have some things in common, as much as it pains me to say it. Did you have a sudden desire to talk to me face to face, take me clubbing then, Potter? Perhaps you hoped we could come out of hiding together and talk about being a gay man in the Wizarding world, compare notes on sexual preferences, topping versus bottoming and so on?”

“I hardly…no, that’s not what I wanted…” Harry felt a furious heat rise in his cheeks as Malfoy talked and he shook his head quickly. “This was a mistake, I should go…” Harry felt rather uncomfortable all of a sudden and wondered what the hell he was doing responding to the misdirected owl when Scorpius had been quite clear on Malfoy’s opinion of Harry. Despite the huge piles of books surrounding him, Malfoy looked fine – better than fine – and Harry felt very much as if he was intruding where he wasn’t really wanted.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Potter. You’re here now and you clearly _do_ need my help with this party of yours. You might as well stay.”

“I don’t know…”

“Dammit, just stay.” Malfoy glared at Harry as if challenging him to do otherwise and Harry tried to read his expression before nodding and settling back on the sofa.

“If you’re sure…” Harry sipped at his wine and let the silence settle around them as he perused the room. It was comfortably lived in, with slippers by the fire and a blanket on the armchair. Harry imagined Malfoy reading one of his tomes as he settled down with some expensive wine to read in the light of the fire, falling asleep with the book out on his chest. He felt his cheeks heat as he had the strangest flicker of an image of Harry himself bending to cover Malfoy in his blanket and brushing his hair from his forehead. 

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing. What are all the books for?”

“Nothing.”

Harry took another sip of his wine to avoid being asked to answer any awkward questions and couldn’t fail to notice that Malfoy was doing exactly the same. 

“I heard you hadn’t been well.” Harry decided he might as well try to get to the bottom of what was wrong with Malfoy, irrespective of whether Malfoy wanted to talk or not.

“I’m fine.” Malfoy glared into his drink and then flicked his eyes to Harry. “Where did you hear that?”

“I thought I read it somewhere…” Harry waved his hand dismissively, thinking it wasn’t exactly a lie and then shook his head. “I must have been mistaken.”

“Yes. I’m sure you can see for yourself I’m quite well.”

“I can indeed.”

“I was surprised when the papers said you and your Weasley had decided to separate. They say you haven’t found anyone yet.” Malfoy spoke quietly, his eyes still focused intently on his drink as Harry turned to watch him, noticing how a loose strand of hair fell over Malfoy’s face and resisting the urge to lean across and tuck it behind his ear.

“The papers don’t often get things right, but that at least is true. There hasn’t really been anyone since Ginny.”

“I would have thought being a hero would make it easier to get a date. If Harry Potter can’t find love or at least a good shag then I’m not sure I hold out much hope for the rest of us.”

“Yes, well…” Harry paused and tried not to think about shagging with Malfoy sitting so close and smelling so damn good. “I was sorry to hear about your father.”

“I’m sure you were. I doubt he will be missed by many.”

“Still…I know you were close.”

Malfoy snorted and shook his head, looking into the fire. “Perhaps…when I was too young to know any better. Besides, Azkaban changes a man.”

“I remember.” Harry nodded slowly as he thought of Sirius and the way he looked after his time in Azkaban, despite being able to mitigate the effects of the Dementors by spending time as Padfoot. He had heard Lucius Malfoy had gone slowly insane during his imprisonment, along with many of the other Death Eaters that survived the war.

“The sun was shining when we buried him and no one wept. It was just me, mother and Scorpius. Everyone else who might have attended is dead or in Azkaban.” Harry noticed that Malfoy was clutching his arm where the Dark Mark would be and watched his face contort, fighting back the urge to reach for him.

“And your mother?”

“Is living in the South of France – I rarely see her.”

“Oh.” Harry looked down at his drink and let the silence stretch between them until Malfoy started speaking again.

“I read your unofficial biography. I particularly enjoyed the title, ‘Succeeding in Battle and Failing in Life.”

“It was completely unauthorised.” Harry glared at Malfoy as he smirked at Harry over the top of his wine glass.

“It was bloody hilarious. Best laugh I’ve had in years. I didn’t know you tortured the Dark Lord with a Tickling Charm.”

“Oh piss off.” 

“Potter?”

“Malfoy.”

“Do you really want me to be your date? At this stupid party of yours, I mean.”

“Yes, I suppose I do.” Harry felt the heat rising to his cheeks and shifted a bit uncomfortably in his place on the sofa.

“Alright.”

“What?”

“Alright, I suppose I can agree to that.”

“Well…good.” Harry looked across at Malfoy and tried to school his face to hide his surprise. He looked down at his glass which was nearly empty and drained it, before placing it carefully on the side and then getting to his feet. “I should go. I’ll be in touch?”

“I have no doubt.” Malfoy snorted and then looked up at Harry, a flicker of something which Harry couldn’t quite read behind his eyes. “Just don’t come round uninvited again, Potter. I don’t appreciate being taken by surprise.”

“Sure.” Harry studied Malfoy carefully, still pretty sure he was hiding something and thinking back to the owl from Scorpius, determined that he _would_ come round again uninvited at some point in the near future when he was a little closer to discovering the truth.

“I mean it.”

“I know. Night, Malfoy.” 

With a wave, Harry left the cosy comfort of the study and walked through the dark corridors of the Manor. As he got outside he looked back at the Manor, the turrets high in the sky and he thought about the books strewn everywhere and Malfoy’s reluctance for Harry to show up unannounced. He pulled the parchment from his pocket and traced his fingers over the words Scorpius had written about his father being sick. With a frown he withdrew his wand and sent a Patronus to Hermione with an urgent message to pull Malfoy’s files from the Ministry and to see if she could find any explanation for the message from Scorpius. 

He cast one last look back at the house as he left and flicked his eyes upwards where he thought he saw cool, grey, eyes looking out of the window at the attic, before the shadow moved and disappeared. Harry watched for a moment longer but when nothing else appeared he turned to find a safe place to Apparate home.

**Tuesday 29 May**

_Potter_

_I have been thinking of this party of yours._

_Have you given any thought to a vodka luge?_

_D. A. Malfoy_

_P.S. If you haven’t consider this a hint that you probably should._

**Wednesday 30 May**

_Malfoy_

_No thought whatsoever. I am looking into it now. I was thinking one in the shape of a dragon might be quite impressive._

_Harry_

_P.S. You will be pleased to know I ordered some caviar. It’s bloody horrible. I hope people other than you actually eat this stuff. It cost me an arm and a leg._

**Thursday 31 May**

“Are you coming to my party?”

Harry almost pounced on Hermione when the fire flared and she laughed at him, shaking her head rather fondly, Harry thought.

“Of course. We have someone looking after the kids – I suspect Ronald will take the opportunity to get horribly drunk.”

Harry grinned happily and laughed, because a drunk Ron was always entertaining – at least for everyone other than Hermione.

“Brilliant. Did you get any information on Malfoy?”

“I did. The records don’t show anything at all.”

“Oh…” Harry felt a little crestfallen. He had been so sure there was _something_ not quite right with Draco and he felt the Ministry would hold the answer somehow.

Hermione shook her head at Harry and gestured excitedly at the file she was waving in the fire.

“No, you see it’s not just that, Harry. There’s something very strange about these files. There is a St Mungo’s report which looks as though it has been tampered with. It’s from immediately after the war. Draco was taken in to St Mungo’s shortly after the Battle of Hogwarts, from what I can gather he was very close to death, but there are pages missing which talk about his ailments.” Hermione looked as if she was going to cry and she looked seriously at Harry. “Harry, I think he was tortured by some of the Death Eaters that still lived after the battle. Rather horribly so, I’m afraid.”

Harry felt a bitter fury and bile rising in his throat as he thought of Malfoy with his head bowed over his books, hiding away in the Manor from the rest of the world, and imagined him suffering unspeakable horror at the hands of the Death Eaters.

“Bastards.”

“Quite.” Hermione paused and then shook her head and frowned. “Draco was a bit of an idiot, but he was just a child…” She sighed and then furrowed her brow again. “You said Draco was sick sometimes, that’s why his marriage ended?”

“According to the letter from Scorpius, although I suspect his marriage ended for an entirely different reason.”

Hermione nodded and then looked over her shoulder and called out to one of her colleagues before she turned back to Harry.

“Perhaps a curse or something…whatever it is, it must have had something to do with what happened to him after the Battle. Harry, I have to go. I will keep looking into it and I will let you know if I find anything. If you notice anything else – anything at all – you must tell me.”

“I will. Thanks, Hermione.”

“You’re welcome. Enjoy the party planning.”

Harry groaned and shook his head before waving Hermione off and moving back from the fire. He sat on the sofa and stared into space for a long time afterwards.

**Friday 1 June**

_Malfoy_

_I have a free day, hoped I could come round to discuss the party._

_Let me know._

_Harry_

Harry looked at the owl with a shrug, and decided it was as good as anything. He watched it fly off with a sigh when an elegant looking owl clattered against the window and Harry moved to let it in, ripping open the note.

_Potter_

_Regretfully I am feeling a little off colour today and will be unavailable._

_Don’t attempt to do anything by yourself – it will be a total disaster._

_I should be available again in a week or so._

_Regards,_

_D. A. Malfoy_

P.S. Caviar is a delicacy which is unlikely to be appreciated by an uneducated palate such as your own. I am not at all surprised you think it is ‘bloody horrible’. Philistine.

P.P.S. I mean it – don’t you dare come round.

Harry looked the owl and took a decision. He went into the kitchen and rummaged around before finding some chicken soup, which he popped on the stove and heated through, transferring it from the saucepan to a flask. With a satisfied grin he grabbed his jacket and Apparated to the Manor, knocking on the door.

“Mister Potter – Mister Malfoy isn’t accepting any visitors today.” 

Harry strode past the little elf who was wringing his hands and shook his head, looking around with a frown.

“Oh, I know - I’m ignoring him though. It’s alright, I’ll make sure he knows I barged my way in and you tried to stop me.” Harry moved towards the library and pushed at the door, surprised to find the fire cold and the room unoccupied. He took a moment to look at the books spread out on Malfoy’s desk, the notes about lunar cycles and felt a strange sort of shiver pass through him as he looked at the spines of the books. 

“’Living with Lycanthropy’, ‘Wolves through the Ages’, ‘Shape-Shifting and the Werewolf’….” Harry trailed off and put the books down quite certain he was intruding now, but determined to see Draco before he left. He moved from the library and slowly up the stairs, ignoring the way the paintings screamed at him. After a moment he came to a large door, closed shut, and he could hear the sounds of classical music through the door, haunting, powerful opera which made Harry shiver as he listened before knocking tentatively. 

Harry waited as he heard the music stop and heard Malfoy letting out a low growl, before the door was wrenched open.

“I thought I asked not to be disturbed - _Potter!_ what the hell are you doing here?”

Harry looked at Draco who was wearing green satin pyjamas, the pocket bearing the Malfoy crest, his hair unruly and his face pale and drawn. It was all Harry could do to stop himself from bundling Malfoy into his arms and asking what was wrong. He rolled his eyes at himself because clearly he was the one going insane if he was contemplating cuddling Malfoy.

“I thought you might like some chicken soup.” Harry thrust the carton towards Draco, feeling a bit uncomfortable intruding like this but determined to stand his ground. “Because you’re sick.”

“I don’t want bloody chicken _soup_ , Potter.” Malfoy snarled at him and glared for a long moment before taking the soup out of Harry’s hand and clutching onto it.

“Can I come in?” Harry peered over Malfoy’s shoulder to try to see into his room and then looked back at Malfoy who was still frowning at the carton of soup. 

“You want to come into my _bedroom_?” Malfoy stared at Harry but moved back from the door nonetheless to let Harry walk in. 

Harry looked around the clean, bright room and grinned at the poster of the Muggle film stars, thinking about the owl from Scorpius which was still crumpled in his pocket and then watched as Draco moved around him and got straight back into bed, pulling the duvet up to his chin and eyeing Harry with a look that was part suspicion and part confusion.

“I really don’t understand what you are doing here.” With a scowl Draco watched as Harry perched on the end of the bed, opening his chicken soup and sniffing it before flicking his wand with an Accio and then tucking in to the soup, hesitantly at first and then more quickly with a low growl.

As Harry watched Draco eat he shuffled closer and then took a decision, reaching into his pocket and handing Draco the crumpled note from Scorpius when Draco finished his soup.

“Here. You want to know what I am doing bothering you and I suppose you deserve the truth. I sent that first owl because one morning I woke up and found this. I don’t think it was intended for me, but I opened it by accident.” Harry felt the flush heating his cheeks because that wasn’t strictly true but he hoped Draco would be too busy reading to notice the lie.

“I’m going to kill him.” Draco scowled down at the note and then handed it back to Harry, frowning at him. “So that’s what all this has been about, Potter - some kind of ridiculous attempt to save me from loneliness? My son is twelve years old, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Well you’re obviously not well.” Harry looked at Draco with the duvet pulled up to his chin and shuffled over onto the bed, toeing off his shoes and putting his legs up, resting back on the headboard so he was next to Draco.

“I have hayfever, Potter. I am fine. Do stop trying to be such a damn martyr. I don’t require a pity date.”

“That’s not why I asked.” Harry looked at Draco and tentatively reached out to capture his hand, feeling a spark rush through him at the contact and brushing his thumb over Draco’s hand. “I asked because I enjoyed your owls. They made me laugh. Plus you’re not horrible looking.”

“Not _horrible looking_?” Draco looked at Harry with another glare and then looked down at their hands. Harry noticed that he made no attempt to move away and decided to attempt a gentle squeeze. “Well now I know why you haven’t found anyone yet. With compliments like that even your most ardent fans would run a mile.”

Harry laughed and then looked around the room, wrinkling his nose as he took in all the posters and then looking back at Draco, hoping Draco wouldn’t notice that his hand was now a little clammy, but not wanting to pull away from him.

“This isn’t what I expected.”

“No? Were you expecting a cardboard cut-out of the Dark Lord and gloomy texts about dark spells and Pureblood family lines?”

“Hardly. I don’t know what I expected to be honest, but not this.” Harry shrugged and then picked up a book from the side which was marked with a leather book mark. “Jack London, Call of the Wild.”

“It’s a Muggle book. You probably haven’t heard of it being such a heathen.”

Harry laughed and shook his head at Draco. “Quite right. Any good?”

“It’s alright.” Draco turned his head away and mumbled quietly so Harry almost didn’t catch what he was saying. “You can read to me if you are going to insist on staying.”

“Okay.” Harry picked up the book and squeezed Draco’s hand again, opening it a little awkwardly with his free hand as Draco settled under the quilt. “ _Here was neither peace, nor rest, nor a moment's safety. All was confusion and action, and every moment life and limb were in peril. There was imperative need to be constantly alert, for these dogs and men were not town dogs and men. They were savages, all of them, who knew no law but the law of club and fang_ …"

It was a long time later when Harry reached the end of the book and he noticed Draco was fast asleep, their hands still clasped together. He gently extricated his hand from Draco’s grip and settled down beside him, propped up on his elbow as he watched him sleep. Hesitantly he reached out to brush a little hair that had fallen over Draco’s face back from his eyes and then stood carefully so as not to wake Draco, turning to leave. 

With a final look back at Draco he shut the door carefully behind him and left the Manor to Apparate back to Grimmauld Place. He sat at his desk and then pulled out some parchment, writing quickly.

_Remus_

_Thank you for your owl. I am sorry it has taken me so long to reply. I would love to come and visit but I doubt Severus will let me have any of his Firewhiskey._

_I will come tomorrow afternoon, if that works._

_Harry_

_P.S. Is Severus going to be there? I am not sure he likes me very much._

_P.P.S. I hope you are coming to my party, the invitation is enclosed. Please can you reply with the brand of Firewhiskey Severus likes best? I have been led to believe it is the only way I will get him to attend and I am bringing a date who is particularly keen to see him._

Harry watched as the owl left Grimmauld Place and sat back in his chair, looking out at the stars and thinking about Draco, wondering when exactly he had become _Draco_ rather than Malfoy.

**Saturday 2 June**

Harry looked around the small street full of small terraced houses and raised his hand a little nervously to knock at the door. It opened with a slow creak and Harry looked up to see Snape glaring down his nose at Harry as if he had already managed to annoy him with the tone of his knocking.

“Potter, you little twit – whose life have you endangered this time?”

“Severus…” 

Harry looked eagerly behind Snape to see Remus leaning against the wall with a soft smile on his face as he spoke to Severus in a warning tone, and Harry waved happily at Remus, pushing past Severus and ignoring his snort and muttered comment about trying not to break anything.

“Remus. It’s good to see you. I’m sorry I haven’t been round more.” Harry enveloped Remus in a warm hug which was happily returned.

“We have somehow managed to tolerate your absence nevertheless, Potter. Please don’t feel the need to make your visits any more frequent on our account.”

“Severus…Harry, you’re always very welcome. I would love to see a little more of you.”

Harry managed to ignore Snape’s pleas that Remus not encourage him and made his way into the living room, sitting himself down on the armchair. He gathered from the scowl which Snape bestowed on him that he had managed to steal Snape’s favourite chair and wiggled in it with a grin, the thought making him rather happy.

“To what do we owe this pleasure?” Snape looked down his nose at Harry and poured himself a Firewhiskey, rather deliberately not offering it around as he made sure he emphasised the word ‘pleasure’ in such a way as to let Harry know his visit was anything but pleasurable.

“I’m here about Malfoy. I think something is wrong with him – seriously wrong.”

“Oh?” Snape circled the edge of his glass casually but Harry didn’t miss the quick look which Remus gave him, before focusing back on Harry.

“I had an owl from Scorpius, you see – that’s what started it all.” Harry settled back in the armchair and stretched his legs out before him, recounting the story about the owls and his subsequent visits to the Manor, trying to ignore the snorts of derision from Snape and focusing on the sympathetic murmurs and gestures from Remus.

“Apart from the fact he sounds very sick of _you_ , Potter, I cannot see any further signs that he is unwell from your story, fascinating though it is.”

Harry glared at Snape again and then smiled when he saw Remus jab him in the side and continued with his story. “He looks really poorly. I went to see him yesterday, I made him chicken soup but he wasn’t very grateful.” 

Harry frowned down at his hands and then looked up to see Snape pinching the bridge of his nose and Remus trying very hard to bite back his laughter.

“I’m not sure you should bother him if he’s feeling like that, Harry.”

Harry frowned at Remus again and shook his head.

“I thought that too. I was going to leave but he seemed sort of…well, it was as if he wanted me to stay but he didn’t want to ask. So he just yelled at me a bit and then told me off for making him chicken soup. Then he sort of…let me stay. I read to him.”

“Oh? He was receptive then – he wanted your company?” 

Harry watched as Remus and Snape exchanged a glance, a private communication passing between them which Harry didn’t understand.

“I guess so. I mean once I made it clear I wasn’t going to leave. I think he just wanted someone to be with him before he fell asleep. He wanted to know someone was there.”

“Harry…do you know anything about what happened to Draco after the war?”

Harry nodded slowly and looked between Snape and Remus who seemed to be passing each other loaded looks which he couldn’t quite interpret.

“Yes. A little – Hermione said he was captured and hurt, but I don’t know any specifics. It’s to do with that then, what’s wrong with him?”

“Yes.” Remus paused and then sighed and dropped his head into his hands before looking up and speaking slowly, a hard, rough edge to his voice. “You may remember Greyback had a particular fondness for children.”

“Yes.” Harry shuddered as he remembered Greyback at Hogwarts and with Hermione when she had been captured and felt the colour drain from his face, a sick sort of feeling coiling in his stomach as everything finally began falling into place. He looked closely at Remus and noticed he had the same sallow look which Draco had when Harry had been to visit him at the Manor. “Draco…He’s a werewolf?”

“Yes.” Remus confirmed it and Snape scowled, as if he wouldn’t have chosen to tell Harry the truth, shooting a glare in his direction.

“You must not bother him about this, Potter – he has been through something which you cannot imagine and I would prefer you try not to do so. His outlook on things has much changed since his capture and he does not need to be pestered at this time.”

“I’m not pestering him.” Harry gave Snape a glare which he hoped was just as good as the one he was receiving. “I want to help.”

“I hardly see how you are going to be able to do that.” Snape snorted and poured himself some more Firewhiskey, ignoring a look from Remus and a murmured comment which Harry couldn’t quite catch.

“He is rather lonely. I sometimes wonder if Draco wouldn’t benefit from having company, someone who knows his secret.” Remus looked at Snape with a shrug, as if to ask where the harm would be in letting Harry try to help.

Snape huffed and finally seemed to reach a decision, giving a curt nod.

“Very well – He won’t be inclined to talk to you about this, Potter. I think the only chance you have of convincing him to open up to you is if you go to him once he has transformed and show him in whatever inane manner you choose that his condition makes no difference to you.”

Harry took in what Snape had to say and nodded slowly before he blanched a little.

“Isn’t it a bit…dangerous?”

“As you would know if you had paid any attention at school, Potter, Wolfsbane allows you to retain your human mind, thus rendering the wolf less dangerous.”

“So he will know me?” Harry looked at Remus who glanced at Snape out of the corner of his eye, as a private sort of moment passed between them.

“Yes. But his recollection of you will largely be driven by his reaction to your scent. If he trusts you it will be quite safe.” Remus smiled at Harry and reached out to him. “Draco in particular is quite…docile…with Wolfsbane, particularly around those he trusts.”

“Those he trusts?” Harry looked at Remus in what he assumed could only be his most incredulous sort of look. “Malfoy _hates_ me. Oh Merlin, he’s going to eat me, isn’t he?”

Snape snorted and rolled his eyes while Remus appeared to be biting his cheek as he shook his head at Harry.

“I doubt it. I am a little more…aggressive…than Draco is when I am like that. Draco is truly much calmer and I think the wolf rather appreciates the company. I wouldn’t let you go if I thought it was unsafe and Severus will make sure you have the necessary equipment which will not harm Draco, should you need to protect yourself.”

Harry tried to ignore the pleasant shiver that Snape made when Remus talked about his more aggressive side, making a face and deciding to try to Obliviate the images that particular reaction elicited. 

“Oh fine, I’ll go and sit with him. But if I end up with my ears bitten off, I’m blaming you. Both of you.” Harry pointed at Snape and Remus and then stood to leave. “I should go.”

“Of course, well don’t hurry back, Potter.” Snape stood and smirked down at Harry and then gripped him by the scruff of his jumper almost hauling him to the door. “Do try not to cause any more trouble.”

Harry glared up at Snape and then waved at Remus who was smiling at Harry, before the door slammed rather hard in his face. He thought he heard a growl as the door slammed and moved away very quickly indeed before he was subjected to the sorts of sounds he felt quite sure he didn’t want to hear.

When he reached a safe distance from any Muggles, he made his way down a small alley and Apparated to the front step of Grimmauld Place. He settled back in the sofa, frowning and looking at the empty fire until the sun went down and only the tentative light from the moon cast eerie shadows around the room. 

**Monday 4 June**

It was nightfall and Harry looked up at the moon as he sat on the step outside Malfoy Manor. He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for exactly, although he had been there for over an hour. As the sun finally set and the watery light of the moon cast dark shadows around Harry, he heard Draco.  
The howl was like nothing Harry had ever heard before, even after watching Remus change before his eyes all those years ago. The raw, animalistic sound was one of intense pain and lonely  
despair, which trailed off into a sad sort of whine when Harry assumed the transformation was complete. 

He stood, turned to the door and rapped firmly, greeted by the same elf, wringing his hands and protesting about there being absolutely no visitors allowed. With a nod, Harry ignored the elf and pushed his way into the Manor, making his way instinctively to the attic, trying to ignore the house elf wailing about the great Harry Potter getting eaten. Steeling himself when he reached the attic he pushed open the door and shut it firmly behind himself before finding himself flat on his back and underneath a silvery looking wolf, snarling at him with its teeth bared and its paws firmly on Harry’s shoulders pinning him rather effectively to the ground.

“Oh do stop snarling at me Malfoy, I know it’s you and I know you know full well it’s me.” Harry glared at the wolf, meeting its charcoal eyes head on and speaking with a little more confidence than he felt. “I mean it. Get off me.”

With a growl the wolf snarled very close to Harry’s nose, looking like it wanted very much to bite him and then let out a whine. Still eyeing Harry the wolf moved a little and growled at him with his hackles raised as if ready to pounce again at any moment.

Harry shook his head and sat up, rubbing the back of his head from where it had hit the floor and glared at the wolf.

“You’re a prat. Why did you have to tackle me like that? You’re lucky I didn’t hex you.” With more confidence than he felt he moved slowly towards the wolf and reached his hand to scratch behind his ears, grinning when the wolf mock-snapped at his fingers and then let out another soft whine.

“See, I knew you liked me really.” Harry moved closer and scratched him again, trying not to flinch when a large paw dropped onto his leg and the wolf’s muzzle moved worryingly close to his neck. He relaxed a little when he realised Draco was sniffing him and petted him softly.

“There, you’re not so scary after all, are you?” 

Harry ignored the growl as the wolf sat down and looked like it was trying to glare at Harry, before giving up when he realised Harry wasn’t going anywhere. Harry looked at the small cot in the corner of the room and the dark dusty attic and felt a surge of sadness for Draco, scratching him behind the ears again and wondering if he would like to be rubbed on the stomach or thrown a ball or something, deciding he should probably leave that for next time. 

In silence Harry moved to the cot and then sat on the floor, leaning back against it as the wolf let out a small, uncertain whimper at the loss of Harry’s nearness. With a deep breath, Harry looked at the wolf directly in the eyes and then patted his lap. The wolf raised himself up and snarled at Harry until Harry patted his lap again. With a soft whine, the wolf moved towards Harry and settled down next to him, his paws and head in Harry’s lap.

Trying not the crow with delight, Harry leaned back against the cot and petted the Draco-wolf, talking about his party to random whines and growls at the more ridiculous suggestions, until he heard soft snoring and closed his own eyes, succumbing to sleep.

**Tuesday 5 June**

“I am beyond furious with you, Potter.”

Harry startled awake to see Draco’s face pressed close to his own, his eyes flashing and his face pulled into a very wolfish sort of snarl. With a yelp he sat up and rubbed his eyes, putting his hand on Draco’s chest to push him away and not getting terribly far.

“Oh shut it, Malfoy. I was just trying to help. I don’t care about your secret, it’s fine – I don’t know how you can think it would bother me with Remus and Bill too. I wanted to be there.”

“So you could _pet_ me?” Draco looked at Harry with another snarl. “Do you have any idea how bloody mortifying it is to know you were _scratching behind my ears_?” 

Harry grinned and dropped his hand into Draco’s hair, petting him a little. “I quite like you as a wolf. You’re less annoying.”

“Potter!” With a growl Draco batted Harry’s hand away and stared at him for a long moment before he crushed their lips together, his hands fisted into the front of Harry’s t-shirt to haul him closer.

Harry took a moment to respond and then heard himself let out a rather embarrassing sort of moan into the kiss, responding eagerly and wrapping his arms around Draco, letting Draco control the kiss and nip and bite at Harry’s lips. 

Harry pulled back just for a moment, and looked deep into Draco’s eyes, his breathing ragged.

“You kiss me like you hate me.”

“I _do_ hate you, Potter.”

“Then I should go?”

“You really should.” Draco sighed and looked up at Harry. “This is a horrible idea, Potter.”

“Perhaps…doesn’t feel like it at the moment, though.” Harry pressed against Draco and nibbled his neck a little before pulling back. “You’ll come to the party still though, as my date?”

“I suppose I have to.”

“Yes, I suppose you do.”

Harry stood reluctantly and turned to leave the attic before looking back at Draco who was still crouched on the floor with his back to Harry.

“Leave, Potter.”

“I’m going – but I will be back tonight.”

“ _No._ ” 

“Yes. Can you bring some cushions or something up here? It’s pretty cold on the floor, although all the fur kept me nice and warm.”

With a grin, whistling to himself and feeling happier than he had in ages, Harry turned to leave, ignoring the snarl which followed him as he shut the door behind him and made his way home.

**Wednesday 6 June**

_Potter_

_I notice from the ball you left in the attic last night and the fact you came round again despite my wishes that you seem to consider me to be some sort of pet that you can play with._

_If you show up tonight I will definitely bite you._

_D.A. Malfoy_

_P.S. I have enclosed some robes for you for this dreadful party of yours. I refuse to allow you to dress yourself if you intend to force me to attend as your date._

_P.P.S. I hope you like green and silver._

**Thursday 7 June**

_Malfoy_

_I enjoyed last night. I knew you would like your stomach rubbed. I look forward to rubbing your actual stomach on Saturday. And the rest._

_I’m not sure I have enough booze for this party. Ron drinks like a fish when he has a night off._

_Harry_

_P.S. Thanks for the robes – I don’t usually appreciate being dressed like a Slytherin but Hermione says the green looks good with my eyes._

_P.P.S. I really am looking forward to Saturday. Maybe you can stay the night at mine this time?_

**Friday 8 June**

_Potter_

_Stop sending me smutty owls. You won’t be rubbing my stomach or anything else on Saturday. I am inclined to tell the Prophet the Saviour of the Wizarding World will give anyone his body for a pretty set of robes._

_I suggest you buy more booze. Weasley isn’t going to be the only one drinking himself into oblivion if I am going to be forced to spend another night in your company._

_D.A. Malfoy_

_P.S. If you think I am spending the night with you I’m afraid you will be sorely disappointed. There isn’t enough Firewhiskey in the world._

_P.P.S. But if I did stay the night (which I certainly will not) you should know I like good coffee and French pastries for breakfast._

_P.P.S. With jam. Lashings of the stuff._

**Saturday 9 June**

Harry wondered if he might already be a bit drunk as he busied himself getting champagne for everyone and speaking to his guests, rather pleased with the turn out for the evening. He was leaning against the wall in the hall to catch his breath when he heard a tentative knock at the door. 

He opened the door to see Draco standing uncertainly on the doorstep. Harry felt his breath catch in his throat as he took in Draco’s form, his legs clad in perfectly tailored grey wool trousers and the contours of his chest hidden by a striped shirt with a black v-neck jumper over the top. Harry stepped back from the door and gestured for Draco to come into the hallway of Grimmauld Place, allowing him time to look around.

“Feels a bit strange you being here. It should be yours, after all.”

Draco snorted and looked around. 

“I have enough gloomy properties to manage without needing another reminder of my ancestry – I can assure you that you are quite welcome to this. I’m surprised though, I expected something…lighter.”

“I know.” Harry raked his hand through his hair and tried to take in his surroundings from Draco’s eyes, seeing the dusty corners and he huge dark paintings which glared and screamed. “I have been working on Godric’s Hollow. George has been helping and Bill too. We’ve made a little garden there, for Fred. We’ve been fixing it up for nearly two years, now. I was planning to move there when it’s all ready.”

“Oh? I’d like to see it…”

Draco trailed off and Harry nodded.

“Of course - I hoped you might help…I wondered if you might want to spend time there. Bill has been helping me fix up an area. Much more comfortable than what you have now in the Manor.”

Harry felt his cheeks heat because they hadn’t really talked about anything the morning after the night before. They had just kissed as if the world was ending and then Draco had thrown Harry out on his ear. Harry had left before Draco had woken the other times, pulling a blanket over him and watching him sleep before closing the door softly behind him.

Draco glared at Harry for a moment before his lips quirked in a small smile. “Let me guess – toys shaped like bones that squeak when you press them?”

“No!” Harry laughed and shook his head, thinking he should definitely never let Draco know that Harry had purchased a stuffed toy shaped like a cat.

“I’m not your bloody pet, Potter. I am a werewolf – a creature of the night. Deadly, ferocious, capable of tearing you apart with my bare hands.” Draco formed his hands into claws and growled at Harry.

“Oh shut it, Malfoy. You’re like an enormous puppy dog. You’re about as terrifying as a crup.”

“It’s not my fault that my wolfy self seems to have horrible taste in companions. You’re lucky he likes the smell of you, otherwise you would have had your arms ripped off.”

Harry shrugged and grinned at Draco. “I thought I would take my chances, with the Wolfsbane and everything. I trusted Snape. Plus he gave me a stun gun in case you didn’t take to me.”

“A what?”

“Stun gun. I could have shot you in the arse and it would have knocked you out flat until morning. Perfectly safe.”

“I’m going to _kill_ him, you too, Potter! The indignity of it all.” Draco huffed and crossed his arms with a scowl, refusing to look at Harry. Harry laughed and moved towards Draco who was still looking uncertain, as if he didn’t want to venture any further into the house. He wandered them back a little until Draco was pressed against the wall and reached down to capture his hand, brushing his lips against Draco’s jaw and wondering how he would get through the night with Draco smelling this amazing and looking like absolutely bloody perfect.

“Don’t be cross – it was self-preservation. Like you said, you’re a creature of the night – deadly, ferocious…I could hardly go in unarmed.”

“What are you doing, Potter?” Draco’s voice cracked a little and he put his hand on Harry’s chest as if he wanted to push him away, but the hand just rested over Harry’s heart. 

“Damned if I know.” Harry reached his own hand up to Draco’s and clasped it in his own before cocking his head and grinning at Draco. “I rather hoped you being my date this evening would mean I could do stuff like this.”

“Hardly a good way to make my reappearance in society, dating someone who thinks _that_ is an acceptable haircut for a party.” Draco snorted with a disdainful look at Harry but then looked up at him with a small smile. “Although I suppose you’re a war hero so being that must count for something – and the robes look good.”

Harry looked into Draco’s eyes and was reminded of a perfect storm – cool, slate-grey and hiding their secrets. He lowered his head because he couldn’t _not_ kiss Draco when he was so close and looked so edible. Harry heard himself moan as their lips connected softly and then more firmly. He felt Draco’s hand tangle in his hair and felt his body press hard against Harry’s own as Harry pressed him back into the wall and kissed him until they were both breathless.

“Good grief, Potter. Have some consideration for your guests and the fact they have absolutely no desire to see you fawning all over your latest paramour.” 

With a yelp, Harry pulled back from Draco, noticing how his lips looked plump from being thoroughly kissed and wondered if his eyes looked as hazy as Draco’s own. With a groan he turned his head to the side and glared at Snape.

“Well most people don’t have to witness it because they are inside enjoying the party – trust you to be lurking around the hall you miserable git.”

Snape sniffed at that and then bestowed a genuine smile on Draco, holding out his hand which Draco shook firmly.

“Draco.”

“Good evening, Severus.”

“You look well, apart from the rather unfortunate looking Potter draped over your arm.”

Snape smirked at Harry who clung on a bit tighter to Draco, nudging him when he laughed and shooting a glare at Snape.

“Thank you – although I am fairly certain I feel well because of Potter, rather than in spite of him.” Draco turned to Harry and kissed his cheek softly, wrapping an arm firmly around his waist. “I suppose I really have lost my marbles, just like the Prophet says.”

Harry turned to look at Draco, feeling his mouth drop open at his comment.

“You are most likely certifiably insane. Do stop gawping like a startled fish, Potter.” Snape glared at Harry and then inclined his head softly towards Draco. “It is good to see you, Draco. Genuinely – the Manor was not a good place for you, although I am not certain this is the ideal place for you either, Harry.” 

Harry startled a bit as Snape called him by his first name and then saw the flicker of something behind Snape’s eyes as he looked at the house and then back at Harry – something which almost looked like concern. He shrugged and gave Snape a genuine smile. 

“S’alright. I’m working on it.”

“I’m pleased to hear it. Shall we?” Snape gestured to the living room where most of the guests were congregated and Harry felt Draco grip onto him a little tighter. He turned to him and kissed him softly, ignoring the groaning from Snape, and then wrapping his own arm securely around Draco’s shoulder.

“Once more into the breach…”

Harry ignored the hum of chatter as he entered the living room with Draco, dropping the arm around him and twining their fingers together tightly, standing close to him. 

“Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t.”

Harry knew he couldn’t leave Draco’s side even if he wanted to.

OoooOOoooO

“Well thank Merlin that’s over.”

Harry collapsed onto the sofa and stretched his legs out in front of him after saying his goodbyes to the final guest.

“It was a success, notwithstanding your involvement in the whole affair.” 

Draco moved to sit next to Harry and turned to him, lacing their fingers together. Harry looked at Draco and shuffled closer to him, thinking about the feeling of Draco’s warm body pressed up against him all evening as he hadn’t left Harry’s side. 

“I think we caused quite the stir.”

“Of course we did – we look good together.” Draco smirked and then nudged Harry’s leg with his own. “We would look even better if you invested in a whole new wardrobe – you received quite a few compliments in those robes.”

Harry turned to Draco and then moved his hand to cup Draco’s cheek, smiling when Draco pressed his face lightly into Harry’s hand. He took a deep breath and looked closely at Draco.

“Will you stay tonight?”

“Harry…” Draco looked at him for a long moment, emotions passing along his face before he smoothed his features once more into a mask and then gave Harry a quick nod.

“So there really _is_ enough Firewhiskey in the world. Brilliant.” Harry heard his own laughter around them and tugged Draco up by his hand. “You haven’t seen the upstairs, yet. It’s sort of miserable.” He showed Draco the landing at the top of the stairs and pointed out rooms where Sirius stayed, along with other members of the Order who had been lost to them in the war.

Draco looked carefully at Harry before leaning over to kiss his cheek and then spending his time taking in the space. “Why are you showing me all of this, Potter? It’s depressing surrounding yourself with memories of the dead – it’s the sort of thing I have been doing.” 

“It’s why I brought you up here. I needed you to understand that it wasn’t charity, coming to see you when this first began.”

“No?” Draco didn’t look convinced but he clung on to Harry tightly nonetheless.

“No. I’m really quite a selfish bloke you see. When I got the note from Scorpius I wanted to come and see you and I suppose I managed to convince myself it was because I wanted to save you.”

“You didn’t want to save me?” Draco looked a little amused and pulled Harry into his arms, brushing his hair back from his face.

“Oh no, I did. But I suppose I wanted to save myself in the process.” Harry looked up at Draco and wrapped his arms around Draco’s neck. “So I wanted to show you – what I was before you. I thought you might have imagined it differently and I wanted you to know…”

“I see.” Draco looked around the house again and then looked down at Harry and kissed his nose. “I suppose you want to borrow a house elf to help you clear this place up?”

“Well dating a Malfoy must have some advantages, surely?” Harry grinned at Draco and wrinkled his nose, kissing him on the lips. “I should probably make use of having a rich boyfriend. Make you buy me lots of pretty things, start developing expensive tastes and all that rot.”

Draco laughed and Harry thought the sound echoing in the large hallway was one of the most brilliant things he had ever heard. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had laughed like that in his house before tonight and he wanted to hear it again.

“Well don’t think I’m going to waste the Malfoy fortune on buying you things, Potter. I fear expensive tailoring is wasted on you.”

“Perhaps.” Harry rubbed his cheek against Draco’s chest with a contented sigh and was strangely reminded of tangling his hands in the grey fur of the wolf and curling up in a warm ball beside him while he slept. “I’m growing pretty fond of cashmere, though. That’s expensive, right?”

“Very. So tell me, Potter, was that the only reason you decided to take me upstairs?”

“Oh…well, not quite.”

Draco moved his arms more tightly around Harry and dipped his head into Harry’s neck.

“Which one is your room, then?”

“Right here.” Feeling suddenly shy, Harry moved to open the door to his room, cursing the mess of scruffy jeans and t-shirts out on the floor.

“This is your wardrobe?” Draco looked Harry up and down and then laughed, leaning in to kiss him. “You’re lucky you have me, Potter.”

“Yes, I suppose I am.” Harry leaned into the kiss until it became a second and then a third kiss and they shuffled together towards the bed, bouncing on the mattress.

“Harry…”

“I know.”

Harry began to pull at Draco’s clothes until he felt the smooth skin beneath his own and then dipped his lips to Draco’s neck, kissing along the arch of his throat and along his jaw, hearing their breathing rough and ragged around them.

“But I haven’t….”

“Neither have I…not with another man.”

“Oh…I assumed…”

Harry pulled back and slid his hand up Draco’s side, before brushing their lips together again. “I suppose we get to learn together, then?”

“Yes.” Harry thought he might fall apart from the beautiful comfort of Draco’s eyes when he looked up at Harry like that, with his face flushed and his lips pink from kissing. “I suppose we do.” Draco paused and then flashed Harry a blinding smile, stretching out and looking at him, thrusting his hips up towards Harry. “Show me what you’ve got then, Potter.”

“Oh don’t worry, Malfoy – I intend to.”

With a grin, Harry captured Draco’s lips in a scorching kiss and fisted a hand into his hair until they were both breathless and they tumbled together into the night.

**Saturday 1 June – one year later**

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_Father doesn’t know I am writing this but I wanted to ask whether you are going to marry him. I know he thinks about it all the time and he even has a ring he was going to use. He keeps losing his nerve, I think._

_I wanted to say thank you for making him happy. He doesn’t get cross anymore, or not very much, and he said we might be moving to the countryside. He said you have a nice house there with lots of room for flying and playing but he just said he’s waiting for you to ask._

_Please ask._

_Yours,_

_Scorpius H. Malfoy (aged thirteen and three quarters)_

_P.S. Father found this letter and got really mad with me but then he apologised and said I should ‘just bloody send it’._

_P.P.S. He said to remind you that if you say no, he knows lots of dark magic._

_P.P.P.S. He’s pacing a bit – you might want to send a reply pretty quickly_

Harry read the owl again and again, laughing as he felt a broad grin spread across his face. He quickly reached for some parchment and a quill of his own and scrawled his reply.

_Dear Scorpius,_

_Thank you very much for your letter. I am pleased your father is happier._

_I would love it if you could both come and live with me in Godric’s Hollow. I think you will like it there. The air is much fresher than it is in London and you can always see the stars at night. I have a telescope set up in the attic room so your father can show you the constellations. I thought you might like that._

_I wondered if you and your father might join me for supper tonight to celebrate. I was thinking beans on toast and jelly and ice cream. I’m not much of a chef._

_Yours,_

_Harry_

_P.S. Tell your father I said hello._

Harry sat back and then grinned when he heard the Floo and Malfoy yelling out his name as he stormed through the house. He turned to see Draco, brushing off his robes and glaring at Harry.

“What sort of answer is that?”

“What do you mean? I asked you and Scorpius to come and live with me, just like you both wanted. I thought you would be pleased?” Harry schooled his face into what he hoped was a look of surprised innocence.

“I asked you to _marry me_ , you git.”

“Nope. I don’t think you did. The letter said you were thinking about it, but you kept losing your nerve. I wouldn’t want to assume.”

“Potter!” Draco stormed towards Harry and pressed his face close to him with a snarl. “Stop being such an irritating arse and tell me your answer.”

“Not until you ask me the question.” Harry leaned against the counter and arched an eyebrow at Draco who looked more dishevelled than Harry had ever seen him. 

“You’re so bloody infuriating, I could just…” With a furious growl, Draco fisted his hand into Harry’s hair and stared at him for a long moment. “I hate everything about you, Potter. You dress like you’re colour blind, you are far too sanctimonious for your own good sometimes, you have a hero complex that needs to be nipped in the bud, your eyes always make it look like you are laughing at me and you have a ridiculous scar on your forehead.”

Harry grinned at Draco and kissed him, a fierce, biting, fight of a kiss, until Draco pulled back and looked at Harry before speaking in a drawl, a smirk on his face.

“You kiss me like you hate me, Potter.”

“I _do_ hate you, Malfoy. Idiot.”

“I hate you too.” Draco looked at Harry and then spoke quickly. “I don’t suppose you could let me spend the rest of my life hating you?”

Harry felt his heart beating more quickly and he could feel his face pulled into a smile so wide his jaw almost hurt with the force of it.

“Yes. I suppose I could.”

“Well that’s settled, then.” Draco smiled a brilliant smile at Harry and then kissed him again, more softly this time, as if they had all the time in the world which Harry rather supposed they did. When they pulled apart from the kiss, Harry buried his face in the curve of Draco’s neck and breathed in the scent of him.

“I love you.”

“Of course you do.” Draco reached his hand into Harry’s hair and tugged it back until their eyes met. “I love you too – you saved me from myself.”

“You know me. That pesky hero complex.”

“Yes, well…” Draco traced his fingers over Harry’s scar and then pressed his lips lightly against it, speaking in a low murmur. “Your eyes – I don’t hate those.”

“I don’t know.” Harry shrugged. “They’re the same green as the killing curse.”

“Are they?” Draco looked surprised and then laughed. “I never noticed. I always thought they were like grass just after rain.”

“I like that.” Harry smiled and fluttered his lashes a little at Draco before nipping his earlobe, tugging it gently. “Are you going to come round for supper tonight? So we can celebrate, with Scorpius too?”

“I suppose so.” Draco ran his hand through Harry’s hair and then fingered the collar of his shirt. “I don’t hate you, Potter. Not at all – you do know that, don’t you?”

“I had a sneaking suspicion.” Harry grinned and brushed their lips together. “Thank you for telling me, though.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Malfoy?”

“Potter.”

“Will you still send me owls even when we live together?”

“Good grief, Potter – I hoped being bonded to you might mean I could escape the inanity of your written correspondence.”

Harry frowned and looked at his feet shuffling them a little until Draco pulled him into his arms and kissed the top of his head softly. “If that’s what you want, I will still send you owls.”

“Brilliant.” Harry wrapped his arms around Draco’s neck and then kissed him enthusiastically. He looked at Draco for a long moment and then kissed him more softly. “You saved me too, you know.” 

Draco looked at Harry and Harry felt himself drown in his eyes as they stood toe to toe and nose to nose, their breath heavy on one another’s lips.

“I think we saved each other.”

“That we did.”

As the sky darkened and the owl carrying the letter from Scorpius fluttered his wings at them both, Harry kissed Draco again, because really there was nothing else to say.

_~Fin~_


End file.
